Room 273
by Busman's Holiday
Summary: The scene we didn't see. Brendan and Ste spend the night in a hotel.


**Room 273**

It was the first time Ste had set foot in a hotel. At twenty he'd done a lot of things, but the closest he'd come to staying in a hotel was having a Coke in a scummy Premier Inn restaurant when Terry's motor had broken down one evening. His mum had taken him on holiday to a caravan park once when he was too young to remember and Amy and he had never managed to scrape enough together to afford a tent, let alone a room in a hotel.

It was Brendan's unsaid apology, taking him here. Quitting his job seemed to be skimmed over, like he hadn't even mentioned it and Brendan put Ste's wages away in the office saying nothing more.

"Stephen you and I know the score, don't we? Hm?"

Brendan lifted Ste's chin, stroking his jawline with his forefinger.

"And if Amy stays out of it, things don't need to change." Brendan tweaked Ste's chin. He smiled a little, not bearing his teeth in the way he reserved for scaring.

Ste found yesterday's tearful conversation with Amy drifting from his mind as Brendan's eyes stared softly into him. His tender persuasion was an irresistible creature, gnawing away at Ste's doubts.

Brendan clasped both hands around his face and pressed his face closer. "I just want you to myself. Is that too much to ask for. Ey?" He tilted his head to one side, finding Ste's gaze to lock with and gripping his teeth into a smile.

Ste shook his head.

"Good," Brendan said, letting go of Ste's face and petting the front of his chest for a moment before straightening up the murky coloured jacket he wore. He left Ste standing there for a moment as he reached into a drawer on his desk and pulled out a rectangular card. He placed it into Ste's hand.

"Meet me in the bar at 9 when your shift finishes."

It was an unconscious agreement, one that he couldn't excuse to Amy, so deciding not to head home, he worked the bar with Rhys under Cheryl's management with Brendan having taken the night off. Cheryl let Ste's distracted work ethic go, just grateful to have him back at Chez Chez.

Feeling uncomfortably out of place in the hotel bar, Ste took a seat in the corner and begrudgingly paid for an overpriced orange juice. He sat and fidgeted with his phone, the ripped lining in the pocket of his jacket and anything else to keep him busy. He checked the time on his phone three times in one minute and was about to wander aimlessly around the hotel, when a familiar figure skulked up to the bar.

Ste sat up in his chair, unable to remove his eyes from Brendan. Handing the bartender a note, Brendan took a sideways glance over to Ste. It was a look that made it suddenly impossible to breathe. He lowered his eyes for a second, biting back a smile but Brendan's gaze had moved away. He pocketed change and carried the two whiskeys over to the table.

"Fifteen minutes," Brendan said sliding the glass across the table to him. "Room 273." Brendan took a sip of his drink - his lips wet and dark with alcohol – and left the bar.

Time ticked ever slower. The drink burned his throat and it was a vivid reminder of Brendan's mouth the very first time, but he made it last this time feeling acutely aware that he was sitting alone with a drink a man had bought him. Everything felt so alien that he could do little but be swept along with it.

He took the lift to the second floor, following the confusing signs and eyeing the gold plated odd room numbers until he was stood uneasily at 273. He knocked gently, taking a glance behind him to the long stretch of empty corridor. Brendan answered the door, black shirt unbuttoned and a storm of desire trapped in his eyes that made Ste shiver. Ste twisted his fingers together and eased into the room.

He kept silent as Brendan pushed his jacket to the floor. Ste felt himself shrinking against the door as Brendan's breath tickled his collar bone, the whiskey smelt faintly on him as he leant in to kiss Ste's neck. For a moment, Ste's eyes closed. He moved his hand under the shirt fabric, onto Brendan's bare shoulder blade, breathing in that musky aftershave of Brendan's which he liked having lingering on his own body as a private memento.

When Brendan stopped, he pulled Ste into an intense stare, holding him tightly by the nape of his neck with his thumbs stroking the tips of his ear lobes. His moustache bristled roughly against Ste's face when he lifted Ste's head and thrust his mouth against him. Ste felt a twinge of pain in his ribs as their bodies pushed together, but it was brief as no sooner had he registered the pain, Brendan sucked on his top lip and pleasure surged across his tongue.

Knowing there was no line to be crossed tonight, Ste found an urgent confidence surfacing and he stripped Brendan of his shirt, letting it tumble carelessly to the patterned carpet. Giving him a satisfied smirk Brendan pulled him further into the room by his clothes. They paused by one of the twin beds, Brendan took Ste's polo shirt between his fingers and shred Ste of it when he lifted his arms.

There was a feeling of shame now he was bare, the marks were on show and it was though he hadn't been tough enough for the bruises to have faded by now. They were yellowing around the edges but the greyed purple was still as clear as ever. Ste tried to concentrate on undressing but Brendan stopped him. First his finger traced the tattoo on his hip, then followed the line above his jeans and up until he stopped at the centre of the bruise. Brendan kissed two of his fingers and then touched the bruise.

He eyed Ste's face and pressed the tip of his thumb into the dip in Ste's bottom lip. With one hand he unbuttoned and unzipped Ste's trousers and let Ste pull them off. Combing his fingers through the thickest hair on Ste's head, Brendan began a slow unravel of his fingers against the front panel of Ste's boxer shorts. Ste curled his fingers into Brendan's shoulder, whimpering a breath into the crook of Brendan's neck. He bit back an impulse to run his tongue over the skin there; he had tasted its inviting warm paleness before.

Brendan pushed his hand into Ste's shorts, giving his fingers a long flex over the skin and making clipped growls of contentment at every hot flicker Ste's body made. He made such new sounds with his mouth, ones Brendan was sure he had never made for anyone else not even his precious Amy. His mouth drooped slightly open, noisy stutters of air gasping through his teeth. Brendan put an end to it, licking a damp trail over Ste's top lip. Ste's curled it against him, pressing for a kiss but Brendan separated from him.

He let a smile creep across his face. He glanced a look down at Ste, delaying his gaze purposefully at his groin. Unbuttoning his own jeans he gave a flick of his eyebrows.

"Aren't'cha gonna get on the bed?"

Ste felt the thrill dry his throat. He grinned, tugging off all that remained of his clothes and shuffled up the bed, dragging with his elbows. Towering over him, Brendan pulled his finger across Ste's bottom lip, down his chin, over his throat. Ste felt so _alive_. Everything beyond this exact moment had blurred so much he didn't care.

He hadn't ever expected to enjoy feeling so powerless, being at mercy to someone in bed like this. But Brendan made him crave the unexpected, the new. He tantalised him with experience and made impossible sensations feel like they were created just for him.

He could only feel Brendan tonight, he was a faceless lion, gushing hot roars of breath onto the back his neck, holding his body into position like a vice. His hair splayed over the pillow and with his neck twisted he could almost see the predatory hunger in Brendan's eyes. Brendan spread right over him, his body was surprisingly muscular and he used his stature to his advantage, hips making every muscle work. His fingers alternated between pressing down on Ste's neck to toying with the tender skin on Ste's buttocks as they collided with his skin in each thrust. He liked knowing he was the first, the only, to ever have been inside him.

His mouth nipped lightly at Ste's shoulder, he used his teeth and then his tongue to smooth over any pain. He heard Ste cry out, once just a garbled noise and twice a throaty yelp that sounded a little like his name. Reaching his hand forward, he gave Ste's cock a grip, sliding his thumb over the wet head and making his fucks fiercer and deeper.

Ste could barely feel the knees he was propped on. There was sweat sticking the hair to his forehead and an unimaginable fire inside him. He reached a hand behind him, somehow finding the back of Brendan's head and scrunching his dark hair in his fingertips. There was a scream in his head but he could hear nothing except the rhythmic grunts from Brendan in his ear and skin meeting skin. He wanted to tell Brendan he couldn't last but he could say nothing. The last conscious image he saw was Brendan's firm arm pushed straight ahead, palm against the headboard. He shut his eyes.

Brendan was eerily silent for a moment. When Ste came it rippled through him, he dug his nails into the bed, a hiss just escaping him when he finally let Ste's reeling body grip him into coming. He pulled out, trapping their hot bodies together and grazing his mouth on Ste's damp cheek. Brendan wiped his hand on the sheets twisted under Ste's arched body and slumped down next to him.

Brendan tapped his cheek until he opened an eye. "Stephen?"

He murmured, spent. Brendan surveyed the scene smugly, watching Ste's chest rise and fall with resuscitating breaths and that tiny arse of his, the one with his name on. Brendan caressed it. Ste grinned sleepily, crawling over to Brendan until his body laid against him and sliding his tongue into his mouth for a kiss. He broke it with a smirk, a disbelieving snigger, but his whisper began in earnest.

"Brendan…"

Brendan pushed his finger against Ste's lips. "Not now Stephen. Go to sleep."

And so he did, in the prickly hotel sheets, smelling of Brendan inside and out.


End file.
